100 Themes of BlackIce
by charmed7293
Summary: A compilation of one shots (mostly BlackIce) based on the 100 themes challenge. Summary will change to match the latest one shot posted and rating may change depending on content. Theme 1: Blink. The King is a Time Lord, traveling with his companion, Jack, who is slowly helping him to get over his issues with his past.


As the summary said, this will be a compilation of one shots based on the prompts provided by the 100 theme challenge. Since there are a couple different variations of that, I chose variation 3, which can be found by simply Googling "100 themes challenge variation 3." If anyone has any particular suggestions for a situation related to one of the prompts let me know in a review or PM!

Most one shots will be BlackIce AUs that I had somewhat of an idea for, but not enough of one to develop it into a full story.

Blink is the first theme.

* * *

"What's the big deal? It's just a statue," Jack said, turning to face the King.

"_Just_ a statue?" There was a slight twinge of hysteria in the King's voice, but he hoped it would make Jack realize how serious he was. His hearts pounded in his chest as he stared wide-eyed at the "statue." "I need you to look at it while I gather supplies to defeat it. Don't turn your back to it. Don't look away. And, most importantly, don't blink. Do. Not. Blink."

"What, why?" Jack questioned, though he did as he was told.

"I'm looking away now. Keep your eyes on it." The King sincerely hoped Jack would take this Weeping Angel more seriously than he had taken the Daleks. That had been an absolute disaster.

Refocusing on the problem at hand, he rushed to the kitchen of the abandoned house, ripping open cupboards at random. They were still stocked with tea, food, and other cooking supplies, providing further evidence that the owners of the house hadn't moved—they had _disappeared_. And the same thing could happen to Jack if he didn't act fast.

Jack let out a sharp gasp from the living room, followed by a creaking of the floorboards, indicating that he had taken a step back.

"Jack! What did I say!" he shouted, ceasing his rummaging as panic pounded in his veins.

"I can't keep my eyes open for that long!" Jack called indignantly. "King . . . it's arms are lower, and . . . it's closer."

"Whatever you do, don't blink again."

"I'm trying. What does this thing do anyway?" Jack's voice was forcibly casual, hinting that he was actually quite scared. As much as the King wanted to go reassure Jack that everything was going to be okay, he continued his search for materials, which would actually _ensure_ that Jack was going to be okay.

"That's a Weeping Angel. All you really need to know right now is that you can't look away from it," he said, taking pots and pans out from a corner cabinet.

"Okay." Jack paused long enough for him to locate a long-handled pan. "What will happen if I blink?"

"Nothing good." The King debated telling Jack the details, but there was no way he was going to allow _that_ to happen anyway, so no point in causing unnecessary worry.

There was a short shout of surprise. "It just got closer and a lot freakier looking. Is that face supposed to scare me, huh? Just because you've got the thing with the pointy teeth and the clawing hands going on doesn't mean I'm going to look away."

The King grit his teeth and resisted the urge to go to Jack, though he wasn't sure if it was to knock him upside the head or to get him out of there. He pulled a wind chime down from its place hanging in front of the window above the sink and set about removing the hollow tubes of metal. As he flattened them with his sonic screwdriver, he wondered, not for the first time, about the wisdom of bringing Jack with him—and not just _here_, to this house. Yes, Jack was very entertaining and could keep up snarking with him like no other, but it was those very same traits that seemed to get him into trouble wherever they went.

"What are you even doing in there?" Jack asked, tone tinged with annoyance at being ignored.

"I'm attempting to make something that will save both our asses."

"Save us from what? You still haven't said what will happen." The King didn't respond right away, but concentrated on attaching the flattened pieces of the wind chime to the bottom of the pot. "Is it something really bad? I assume it is, or you would just tell me. It'll be okay. It always turns out okay."

Jack was wrong. It wasn't always okay at the end of the day—the King knew that better than _anyone_—but if it kept Jack from blinking, then the King was willing to let him believe anything. He held up the device he had just fashioned. The metal wasn't as reflective as he would have liked, but it would have to do.

He quickly made his way back to the living room to see that the Weeping Angel was a lot closer to Jack than he would have liked. A sweeping glance of the room revealed there wasn't any place to secure his makeshift mirror. The hallway he had just come through was lined with wall scones, which he could use his screwdriver to bend around the handle of the pot once he removed the light fixture; however, that entailed somehow getting the Angel into the hallway.

"Jack?"

"Yes?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course!" Jack's response came immediately, without any hesitation. It sent simultaneous thrums of pleasure and fear through the King's body. He had failed so many others before that he wasn't exactly worthy of someone placing their trust in him, placing their lives in his hands. His palms were toxic, bringing only destruction and death where they touched, and those who placed their lives in his hands were doomed by his poison. If only Jack _knew_ what he had—

NO.

Jack was different. Jack never treated him as the monster he was. Jack had met him when he had been at his worst, at his lowest point, and had still tagged along so willingly, so eagerly.

Yes, Jack was different. Jack could survive his contamination and perhaps—if the King dared to hope—Jack could cure him as well.

"Good. Then I need you to do something for me." From behind, the King gently gripped Jack's shoulders and drew him back, into the hallway. "I need you to blink."

"But you _just_—"

"I know what I've been telling you!" the King cut Jack's angry disbelief off. He gentled his voice as he continued, "But you said you trusted me, so _please_."

Jack swallowed and blinked.

As expected, the Angel was _fast_, but they had moved so far back in the hallway that it still wasn't close enough. The King soniced a wall scone to remove the light fixture, causing it to crash to the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jack flinch—and blink—at the unexpected sound. The King checked and, sure enough, the Angel was closer.

"Sorry, should have warned you."

"Ya think? What are you even doing anyway?"

"You'll see in a minute." The Angel needed to be just a bit closer. "Just blink one more time."

It was quick, barely a fluttering of eyelids, but perfect. There was just enough time to secure the handle of the pan so that the mirror part was just in front of the Angel's face. It was frozen, trapped by its own gaze.

The King let out a sigh of relief before smiling smugly and strolling around the Angel, surveying his work from all angles. It worked exactly as he hoped.

"You stopped it?" Jack asked, eyes still wide and staring at the Angel.

"Of course I did."

"How?" Jack finally blinked, rapidly, and cautiously walked to the other side of the Angel. He made as if to wave his hand in front of the Angel's face, but the King quickly grabbed his wrist.

"A Weeping Angel can only move when no one is looking at it."

"So that's why I couldn't blink?"

"Exactly. And an Angel looking at itself is still technically being looked _at_."

Satisfied that this one was taken care of for the moment, the King headed upstairs to check the rest of the house for more Weeping Angels. They tended to congregate.

"You coming," he threw over his shoulder to Jack, who stuck his tongue out at the Angel before jogging up the stairs after him.

Once they confirmed the house was Angel-free (for the moment, at least), the King decided it would be best to head back to the TARDIS, so they could search for the family that used to live in the house. As he turned to head back downstairs, Jack grabbed his hand.

"Okay, but I just have a question first," he said. Jack's face was uncharacteristically serious, an expression the King had only seen twice in the months Jack had been traveling with him. He wasn't going to be able to brush Jack off.

"Yes?"

"Just tell me what would have happened if that thing got me. What would it have done if it reached me?"

The King couldn't say he didn't expect this. He sighed and gripped Jack's shoulders, looking him right in the eye. Jack's determined gaze didn't waver. "Something very bad."

"I got _that_ much. _How_ bad exactly?"

"The mechanics of it are a bit complicated, but basically you would be sent to a different time period—"

"You could just come get me!"

"—but you would be stuck there. I could search for you, yes, but even if I found you, you would not be able to come with me." He brought his hands up to cup Jack's face as his eyes widened and mouth dropped open. Good, he saw how damning the consequences were. "You understand why I can't let that happen?"

Jack nodded, his eyes becoming distant as he imagined the repercussions. "I wouldn't see my family again. There would be no way to contact them to tell them what happened. Or you. I wouldn't be able travel with you."

"Exactly."

"I'm sorry," Jack said quietly, a hand coming up to cover one of the King's. "I shouldn't've fooled arou—"

"No, don't apologize! If anyone should apologize, it's me!" The King had so much more to apologize for than just this, but he was working on that. The first step was to apologize to people while they were still there, while he still could. "_I'm_ sorry. I should have told you sooner, so that you knew what you were up against, but I didn't because I wasn't willing to consider it as a possibility."

"Well, now I know about Weeping Angels and what to do to stop them, but it would have been nice to know _before_ facing one for the first time. Not telling me important things actually makes it _more_ likely that something bad will happen to me, ya know?"

"I know." Jack's earnest smile cut the King deeply. Secrecy and his tendency to keep things private had been the cause of many problems in the past—another thing to work on. But he _was_ working on it and that was what mattered. "Just don't blink, Jack, okay?"

"It's a little late for that!" Jack said with a laugh as he took a step back and swatted playfully at the King's arm, "but I'll keep it in mind. Don't blink."

"Good. Now, let's go."

The King couldn't help but look over at Jack every now and then during their walk to the TARDIS. Jack smiled brightly every time he caught him. He thinks that he's not going to be blinking much either, though for an entirely different reason than Jack.


End file.
